


there's this tune i found

by Dandybear



Category: Lovecraft Country (TV)
Genre: Dating But Not Dating AU, F/F, Fluff, Smut, Strap-Ons, band au, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: Ruby is definitely not planning on bedding the new bass player in her band. And, even if she is, she's not planning on like, dating her or anything.(It's Always Sunny Title Gen: "Ruby Dates Her Band's New Bassist")
Relationships: Ruby Baptiste/Christina Braithwhite
Comments: 40
Kudos: 223





	there's this tune i found

**Author's Note:**

> Me: This is gonna be a quick and sexy one shot  
> Also me, 7k deep: oh no
> 
> Me: This is gonna be an exploration of Ruby's intimacy issues sabotaging her relationship, just a good old angsty smut fest  
> Also me: turns out what I wanted to write was fluffy domestic lovers to lovers with cats and plants
> 
> Please enjoy

“I dunno Ruby.”

“She was the clear winner, Leti!”

Leti makes a face and fiddles with her nails, “Yeah, but a girl paler than ski season in Connecticut auditioning with Arctic Monkeys? How white do we want our bassist to be?”

“I like Arctic Monkeys,” Tree says, putting in his two cents.

“We asked them to bring a bass heavy song and the woman plays  _ Do I Wanna Know  _ like it’s,” Ruby feels her cheeks flush, “sex on the stage, and you wanna pass because she’s white?”

Leti asserts herself with a roll of the shoulders and shaded eyes. She's used to scrutiny.

"Look, I'm just saying, adding a white girl to a black band changes the conversation. Especially one who is tall and pretty. Suddenly everyone's ignoring our music to stare at the bass player."

Ruby bites back,  _ ignoring  _ **_you_ ** _ , you mean.  _ Leti does have a point. Adding one white person to a trio of black people gives a laser focus. Whether it's spot the difference or something else. 

"Then there's the other matter," Leti says. 

"What other matter?" Ruby asks, feeling like she already knows.

Leti gives her a heavy side-eye, "The matter of you two eye-fucking each other the whole time she was on stage."

Ruby wasn't!

(She absolutely was.) Slim showed up with her Church of Satan hard case and her try-hard bedraggled suit. And she unclipped her case like it wasn’t all part of the performance. Of course she had a beaten up Fender Precision. Powder blue. A thirty grand guitar and she was just showing up to audition for their shitty band? It put Ruby on edge. But, the real edge came from the woman herself. She had the hands of a bassist, first thing Ruby had clocked on her. Second was that she was in here all the time on her laptop and leaving big tips in the jar for the coffee she barely drank.

When Ruby mentioned it to Sammy he just laughed and shook his head, "Honey you are much too old to be this clueless."

She threw a towel at him for that, for calling her old, and when she looked up she saw a smile on Slim's face. 

So, yeah, her heart was pounding when Slim got on stage and introduced herself in a small voice as, "Christina." Then launched into a bass cover of  _ Do I Wanna Know  _ that hit her bones. A filthy bassline--filthier than the original that she felt it like a rough touch. Rubbing across her skin, pebbling her nipples, making her wet. Wet like her first accidental orgasm, sitting on a speaker when  _ Bombs Over Baghdad  _ came on. 

Then there were those eyes. She'd felt them on her when she worked the counter and the bar, but just assumed white girl was picky with her drinks--or bored. 

These eyes weren't bored. They were challenging. Hungry. 

Ruby took the challenge with narrowed eyes and a bit inner lip. 

Slim didn't smirk, didn't change her expression from hungry, but she changed her posture. Before this she seemed detached. The perfect backing for some west coast shoegaze ensemble. But when she pushed the bass with her hips like--well, like she knew what she was doing behind something that big, Ruby clenched. And when Slim rolled the strings between her fingers like  _ that _ then Ruby couldn't help the pant that escaped her lips. 

Leti thought she was staging an intervention by saying, "That was pretty good. What else you got?"

Like she was gonna stump the girl. 

Slim cycled through classic openings:  _ Come As You Are _ ,  _ All Along the Watchtower,  _ and  _ Superstition.  _ But, what she settled on was  _ Gigantic _ . Unexpected, unlike the five different renditions of  _ Feel Good Inc _ and  _ The Less I Know The Better _ they'd already heard. It got Tree moving in his seat, drumming his fingers against the table. Ruby broke second because of the plausible deniability of joining in with, " _ Hey Paul, hey Paul let's have a ball. _ " It’s a catchy song.

(A catchy song about an interracial relationship, a detail Ruby did not fail to notice.)

Even Leti couldn't help but tap a foot. 

"We'll be in touch," is what she said through a false smile. 

Slim packed up with the same precision she played with. It was only in leaving that she glanced at Ruby from beneath her lashes. A look that made Ruby gulp.

“All I’m saying is that band drama is what got us needing a new bassist in the first place,” Leti says.

“Your band drama!” Ruby fires back.

“Man, what’s Tic got that makes girls chase him?” Tree says quietly into his beer.

“How was I supposed to know Tic was Ji-Ah’s ex?” Leti whirls on Ruby.

“You could have asked his step-father! Whose bar this is!” Ruby fires back.

Leti waves a hand around and stomps before coming to her conclusion, “Fine. We’ll call her back. But the minute she starts being a distraction or a problem she’s out.”

Leti says it like an ultimatum she can wield over them.

Ruby just sighs and looks at the mess she’s going to have to clean up. Glasses everywhere and she told Sammy that she’d have the place spotless by opening. Of course Leti bounces off with her books because she’s got an evening class.

The same silver sedan is sitting outside on the other curb as Ruby leaves, holding the door for Sammy on his way in.

“Sweetheart, please don’t ever waste your Sunday cleaning up again,” he says giving her a one-armed hug.

* * *

The official-unofficial band initiation happens over drinks. At another bar, because they need to pretend that they have other venues and interests.

Slim shows up dressed like some sixties professor this time around, and Ruby knows it’s a move because she’s seen the girl in a Versace hoodie and flip flops. 

Ruby’s ignoring her own decision to wear her nice blue dress for the meeting. More thoroughly is she ignoring Leti’s flared nostrils and the way Slim’s knee bumps hers under the table as she crosses her legs.

“We’ve got a big show lined up,” Leti says like it’s a sure thing and not a maybe from a friend-of-a-friend. Ruby exchanges a look with Seymour but he keeps out of it, slurping his beer instead.

“Is it just covers or do you have original material I should start learning?” Slim asks.

She's tapping her thumb to the rhythm of the music and it’s the only thing Ruby can focus on.

“We’ll get you up to speed on the first rehearsal,” Leti’s saying.

The bar cheers at the Blackhawks scoring and Ruby winces with the noise.

That knee bumps her beneath the table again.

Ruby avoids Slim’s eyes as she takes another sip of her own beer, but she does cross her own legs at the ankle, smirking against the rim when her foot brushes a knee.

She uses the reflection of Leti’s drink to watch that lip lick.

Leti clears her throat, “Ruby, do you have any questions for Christina?”

She has a few, but none that she wants Leti to hear. But, she still takes the bait, leaning on her hand as she openly looks at Christina for the first time all night. “What made you want to join a rock band?”

“I’ve been told that I need a hobby,” Christina replies with a wolfish grin.

“A hobby?” Leti repeats, incredulous.

“Pretty good for a hobbyist,” Ruby cuts in, “What else have you been trying?”

“Someone told me I should try  _ Magic  _ cards, but there’s too many men playing to interest me. At least when the snow thaws I can play soccer.”

Which gives Ruby a mental image of all that leg in knee socks and cleats and she clenches. Fuck, who gets turned on by soccer? But, she could get turned on by anything at this point. She’s uncomfortably wet. So wet that a trip to the bathroom is necessary, but if that happens and Christina follows her then Ruby has no chance of keeping her cross-fingered “promise” to Leti. The promise of keeping it “professional”.

In what only could be divine intervention, Leti gets a phone call from her roommate and excuses herself. Tree’s checked out, watching the hockey game and trying to flag down the waitress for another drink.

“Why did you actually audition?” Ruby asks.

"I was in need of an excuse to talk to you,” Christina says, knocking back her whiskey.

“You’ve been coming into my work three times a week for the past month and this is the excuse you come up with?” Ruby scoffs, smelling bullshit.

Christina looks regretful that she’s finished her drink and now has nothing else to do with her hands. “In my defence, I am also working on my thesis, and I have a strict policy of not hitting on women when they’re working.”

“Mmhm,” Ruby doesn’t quite believe it. They’re thigh to thigh under the table, “What’s your thesis on?”

“Regeneration of the epidermis when exposed to different environmental factors,” Christina says.

“Ooh, she’s a doctor,” Ruby says.

“Biologist, but yes.”

“Hey, are you two up for a threesome or should I leave?” Tree cuts in.

Ruby snorts, turning red, “Get outta here, Seymour before I kick your ass.”

He takes his glass with him as he approaches the rowdy bachelorette party to shoot his shot.

With him gone, Ruby lets her legs fall open and a big hand drops to brush her thigh, fingers still damp from the drink’s condensation. Ruby moans a little.

“Would you like to continue this conversation at my house?” Christina asks.

She throws down a wad of bills to cover the tab, even Leti’s drink in her absence.

Ruby chews her lip, fighting with playing hard to get until Christina stands and adjusts her blouse, exposing a leather strap hugging her hip. There's an accompanying bob at the front of her slacks. Ruby's mouth goes impossibly dry and she really needs a drink of something other than beer to sate it.

Of course the silver Sedan is Christina’s. The guys leaning on it to smoke give them a hungry look before yelping. Ruby frowns, she didn’t see what it is that got to them, but Christina’s muttering something in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“Sorry about that. Men,” then an eye roll.

Ruby’s wondering if the flags she’s seeing are red. Pink perhaps? Here she is going home with the woman who has been effectively stalking her for a month. Respectfully stalking. It would be called courting in 1950, and it’s not like she’s been rooting through Ruby’s trash.

At least, Ruby thinks so. But, she’s thinking with her pussy instead of her brain so her judgment is much more concerned with the strap-on Christina is currently packing.

Christina’s apartment is a nice little brick walk-up that could be a McDonalds for all Ruby cares. All she cares about is the click of the key in the lock and the door swinging open.

Then she’s shoving Christina inside, kissing the mouth that comes at her. Letting Christina grab her face and hold it. Assured in letting Ruby attack the buttons on her vest, then her blouse.

In their stumbling around in the dark, Ruby cuts her thumb, and when Christina sticks the cut in her mouth instead of looking for a bandage, that’s the moment when Ruby knows she’s really far gone. Because she moans into the bloody kiss and pulls Christina impossibly closer.

They make it as far as the stairs.

That’s when Ruby feels like her legs are gonna give out if she doesn’t get something between them. Christina looks up at her with bare wonder as Ruby mounts her lap, running her hands down a bare pale chest, tracing the demonic tattoo she finds there.

Christina flips their positions and shuffles out of her already drooping and unzipped slacks exposing the bounce of a silicone dick, one that Ruby sees the shadow of before it’s up and--inside of her. She groans into Christina’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of blonde hair as that perfect bloody mouth makes tracks across her chest.

It’s been too long since this itch has been scratched. The deep itch that Christina’s dick is currently rubbing against, each stroke, thrust, and hip flick making Ruby whimper and groan. She’s not modest, but she’s also not too proud to beg. Beg for that faster, deeper, more as she keeps those skinny hips anchored by her own knees.

But, the main begging she does is,  _ “Yes, fuck me--” _

Fuck me, who? Baby? They’re not there yet. Fuck me, Bitch? Maybe.

It comes out without meaning to.

“Fuck me, Daddy!”

Christina pulls back, looking dumbfounded for just a second, before laying into Ruby hard enough to make a stair creak, her hand still protecting Ruby’s head from any impact.

Finishing round one clears their heads enough to grab a hair tie and a water bottle before ascending to the bedroom.

Rude, is what Ruby would call Christina. Disrespectful even. Not letting her have so much as a breath between bouts of getting her pussy eaten and fingered. Christina, who takes Ruby’s shaking, collapsing orgasm as an opportunity to push back in with the strap-on and take big mouthfuls of Ruby’s breasts as Ruby milks her cock in the aftershocks.

But, more than that, it’s damn disrespectful how tender her kisses are. The way she’ll be plundering her mouth one second, and nuzzling her cheek the next. 

Eventually, Ruby has had enough, and slaps Christina’s hand away, levelling her with a hot glare before flipping their positions. She tosses the strap-on blindly by the bed, snickering at the sound of wet silicon slapping the floorboards. Then she’s staring down at a glossy pink pussy that she puts her lips to. Christina cries out, clutching at Ruby’s shoulder.

Okay, so not that disrespectful. Ruby rolls her eyes and moves the hand to her hair. She appreciates the gesture, but she wants to be pushed around into whatever this audacious bitch likes. She tucks in, soft with her tongue at first, then building. She wants to give as good as she got, so she watches every little twitch and tense until she’s laughing as she holds down bucking hips. Then she switches to her fingers. Women are like guitars. You just need the right fingering to make good music, and Christina’s no different, crying out marvelously as Ruby finishes her a third time with a bit nipple.

Marathon orgasms is nothing to sneeze at, and really it should end there. Ruby intends for it to end there. She just needs to recuperate her strength. And, besides, despite Christina’s haughty appearance, she’s actually very cuddly. Their bodies moosh together at all the right spots, and the hand stroking her hair is enough to get her eyes closed and--

Ruby wakes up from her doze and grunts, looking for her phone and the time, grabbing the water bottle to take a few generous sips. Her movement unseats the pale arm thrown over her waist and rouses her bedmate.

“What’s wrong?” Christina asks.

Her blonde hair is fluffed in all directions. Ruby’s handiwork and she’s quite proud of it.

“It’s late, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Christina nods, once, twice, before grabbing her own phone, “Subway’s closed by now. Let me give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to,” Ruby says.

“I insist, I want you to get home safe.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know you can. I want to take care of you anyway.”

“I can just get a cab.”

“Do you want to stay the night?” Christina breaks through the niceties.

Ruby moves to stand, but hisses at the ache inside. Disrespectful. Her pussy throbs in agreement.

“Maybe? If that’s okay?”

“More than okay,” Christina looks smaller, younger, in the pale light of her phone.

“Okay. Can I use your shower?”

Christina points to the en suite.

Ruby gathers herself and follows the finger, closing the door but leaving it unlocked as … something. An invitation maybe. And, just before she hops in the shower she leans back to open the door just a crack.

The effect is immediate and hilarious because she’s not under the spray for twenty seconds before the glass door is being opened and she’s joined by a skinny body.

It’s just for a night, she tells herself, enjoying wet kisses first thing in the morning. Sleeping naked next to each other is just for the night too. She doesn’t say anything about Christina cracking open a fresh toothbrush for her and leaving it in the cup by the sink. It’s just courteous is all. The girl’s probably had a lot of hookups and lives prepared.

There’s nothing special about tonight, or about Ruby.

She glances around for her phone and finds it already plugged in.

Disrespectful.

* * *

Simple math equation. Marathon sex plus blackout curtains equals sleeping past noon. Ruby wakes up feeling like the sandman hit her with a bat.

In her haste to get to bed last night, she missed the details of Christina’s house. Now, still shadowed by the curtains, she glimpses a wall covered by pinned butterflies given as much reverence as a poster of Nina Simone. It’s not an Ikea furnished room, that’s for damn sure. She knows Christina is well off. The car, the hoodie, the tips, the MacBook, it all screams “rich and bored”. Rich, bored, and  _ eccentric _ \--because that’s something rich people get to be.

Speaking of which, her company stirs in Ruby’s absence. Christina sleeps with her arms above her head, and the word ‘monkey’ enters Ruby’s head.

She goes pee while thinking of where she left her clothes and checking her phone for the best route home.

Christina’s sitting up when she exits the bathroom, lips pursed as she looks at her own phone. Her eyes snap up, appreciating how naked Ruby is.

“Good morning,” she says, voice sleep sexy and heavy with innuendo.

“Morning,” Ruby says, scratching her head, “I didn’t mean to sleep in that long.”

“Shit, you have to work right. When?”

“4-1, I’m closing.”

“Still got a few hours then,” Christina says casually.

“Yeah, should probably be getting home before my cats go on strike.”

But, her traitorous stomach takes this moment to make itself known.

“How about you stay for breakfast and then I give you a ride home?”

_ No, thank you, it’s been a great night, but this probably shouldn’t happen again. _

Except, the idea of hopping two buses and getting at best, a brown banana in her before running off to work sounds exhausting. 

“If you’re offering, I don’t wanna make you cook if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not cooking,” Christina waves her phone, “I am harnessing modern solutions for age old problems.” She bites her lip, “I think your dress is in the hallway.”

Ruby can feel eyes on her ass on her exit. The house is gorgeous. Afternoon sunlight illuminates warm papered walls and wooden accents. Instead of family photos, the walls are lined with expensive art. Not modern art, or even tasteful landscapes. No, there’s a mix of tortured medieval and baroque art that gives the vibe of a count’s castle or a museum. Her dress is in a pile at the top of the stairs with her underwear all the way at the bottom. She’s not yet confident that Dracula won’t lunge out at her, so the dress is the only garment she recovers.

Christina is still naked when Ruby returns. She pats the bed next to her. The natural contrarian in Ruby wants to disobey the request, but then she’d be standing in her birthday suit feeling like a fool.

Christina hands her the phone which has the Uber Eats page open, “Pick something. At your leisure,” she adds, stretching that long body in a way that makes Ruby’s brain go fuzzy.

“Sorry, it timed out,” Ruby says.

Christina opens the phone again then grabs a book off the bedside table in an attempt to look casual that Ruby does not fall for. She passes the phone back after selecting an order from an upscale brunch spot nearby.

“You’d better order something other than coffee and cigarettes,” Ruby says.

Christina smirks at her, “I eat.”

“Mmhmm. Pussy doesn’t count,” Ruby wags a finger, checking her texts.

She misses the pursed look Christina shoots her back.

Ruby’s thinking of the most neutral way to answer Leti’s,  _ please tell me you didn’t leave the bar with white girl _ , text when she feels a chin rest on her arm and looks down to see batting lashes.

“Can I help you?” Ruby asks.

“Food’s ordered.”

“Mmhm.”

“It’ll be here in half an hour.”

“Mmhm.”

Ruby blinks at Christina. Christina licks her lips and looks down.

“You are insatiable,” Ruby laughs, but she opens her body language, letting herself be pushed back, phone dropping against the pillows as that skinny body mounts hers. Christina tastes like toothpaste.

“You can’t blame me for that when you look like this,” Christina says against Ruby’s mouth before dropping a trail of kisses across her jaw and down her throat.

“Do you have Mommy issues?” Ruby asks, looking down at a pink mouth wrapped around a black nipple.

“Daddy issues, why?” Christina asks before switching to the other breast.

“Just checking,” Ruby’s back arches, letting those long fingers back inside her.

The food arriving cuts off their sixty-nining early, and Christina groans mournfully as she extricates herself, wraps herself in a masculine robe and descends the stairs.

Ruby wipes her mouth and goes back to her phone.

She composes a text to Leti, then erases it.

Who is the real big sister here? And why does she always feel the need to justify herself to Leti?

Christina returns with food, cutlery, and her hair in a bun. It exposes Ruby’s handiwork from last night. She likes giving women hickies from behind, because it can be hidden by hair, or exposed to show exactly how Ruby Baptiste leaves a mark.

“Don’t have a dining room in this big house?” Ruby prods.

“I do, but the chairs aren’t as comfortable and I’m washing these sheets anyway.”

“Are you sure you just don’t want any dates to find the secret murder chamber?” Ruby asks, opening her takeaway box. She’s probing because confining a date to one room is the exact kind of player move she’d expect from the girl in hundred dollar boxers.

Christina pops her own container, “No, I can show you that after brunch if you’d like.”

Ruby laughs.

“So, your accent…” she says around pulled pork.

"Rural Mass,” Christina takes a sip of water, “But I’ve lived on and off in Chicago my whole life.”

“Mmhm. But where do your real loyalties lie: Blackhawks or Bruins?”

Christina winces, “Sport is an exercise in masculine posturing and the Bruins, obviously.”

Ruby shakes her head, “Can’t believe I slept with the enemy.”

Christina laughs then gets quiet, “It was good though, right?” she says in a small voice.

Ruby rolls her eyes, “What, did my screaming not give it away? Do you need further convincing? Do you have a Yelp page you want me to leave a review on? Hm, ‘Made me cum until I saw stars, then got me breakfast.’ How’s that?”

Christina is trying really hard not to grin like an idiot and failing. Ruby kicks her foot gently, “I had a great time.”

Reality is peeking through those curtains though. Ruby sighs, “But, Leti wants the band to stay professional.”

She doesn’t miss the irritated flash on Christina’s face, “And, Leti gets to decide?”

It’s a simple question, but a pointed one. One that makes Ruby pause and consider it. 

Once upon a time it had been  _ her band  _ a band built out of just goofing off with the guys on a slow night. Music sold booze and got people dancing, and the tips it made gave her a little breathing room on bills. Music was always about the connection, not about making it big. Then Leti came along in need of some money, and she told her it was just one time. 

Leti’s always got a new scheme cooking up.

Leti’s her sister.

Christina (brat) steals one of her raspberries while waiting for an answer, Ruby lets her.

“No, it’s not.”

“So, keeping things professional is your decision?”

Ruby flips the conversation, “What is it that you’re looking for here? Now that you’ve lain with me are you going to just quit the band?”

“I wasn’t lying to you when I said I needed hobbies. I wanna make music with you.”

“Stop,” Ruby laughs as a pair of lips latch onto her neck.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop. And, if you want to keep this professional, I’ll keep it professional. What does Ruby want?”

That’s another hard hitting question. 

It’s been a long time since Ruby got to think about ‘want’ more than the needs and necessities of the now. Leti’s always been the dreamer, the youngest, and ‘pretty one’. Ruby had big dreams, probably, before she saw the cost of that. 

What does she want?

“I’ve been treading water too long to be thinking about what I want. Not everyone is some rich bohemian student who can do whatever the fuck they feel like,” she pulls away, feeling her walls go up.

Christina blinks at her, waiting for more.

“I don’t have the luxury of chasing after every little whim like Leti, or spending a month trying to get a girl’s attention like you.”

“I understand. But, what if I told you I could offer you a hand out of that water you’re treading?”

Ruby scoffs brusquely, “Like some sugar daddy arrangement? Listen, just because I fucked you doesn’t mean I’m signing up to be a kept woman.”

Christina reaches for her, Ruby bats her away.

“I’m not asking you to be a hooker. I’m offering you breathing room. For whatever you need.”

“Sounds like there’s a lot of strings attached.”

“No strings. I promise.”

“So, I could take your money and never fuck you again?” Ruby says, skeptical.

Christina wets her lips, but holds eye contact as she nods.

“Why?”

“Because you’re too exceptional to rot slinging coffees at a queer cafe bar.”

* * *

They descend the stairs dressed, and with wet hair in Christina’s case. She spots the panties at the base of the stairs and drops to pick them up, showing great restraint in handing them back to Ruby. 

Ruby takes them stone faced, but stuffs them into Christina’s pocket while she’s looking for her car keys. It gets her another dumbstruck look, and if Ruby isn’t careful she’s going to love that look.

The drive to her house should be awkward, but it’s not. Tracy Chapman’s  _ Talkin’ About A Revolution _ greets them from the CD player. Something they agreed upon last night. 

It still feels like a move. Something calculated to put Ruby at ease. Some white girl hotep shit.

If she weren’t running late she would care more about Christina seeing her apartment in a disarray. If she weren’t late she would thank Christina and bid her farewell instead of accepting the ride to work because she might as well at this point.

She gathers her things on autopilot while Matches and Frederico Fillini sniff Christina’s hands.

There’s this added tension to getting ready. It’s post-date and pre-date at the same time, because Christina’s sitting out there, waiting for her so they can leave. It’s like a preview to an intimacy that Ruby’s not even sure is in her future.

Everyone makes promises they can’t keep in the afterglow. Christina’s interest will last a week maybe, a month at most. 

She still applies the red lipstick and dark eyeliner combo, and she still selects a low cut top and skinny jeans.

Christina’s backlit by the sun streaming through the window and covered in cats when Ruby exits. She looks content, and fits the tableau in a way Ruby doesn’t want to verbalize.

“I like your apartment,” she says.

“Thanks. It’s small. You’re good with plants.”

Ruby flushes with pleasure and a little embarrassment. It’s become a problem. There’s a little Korean corner store that sells plants, and they always have the prettiest orchids in the city. One woman shouldn’t own twelve orchids. Even Georgia O’Keeffe would have staged an intervention at this point.

Then, there’s her illegal vegetable patch, the one she’s been co-opting the empty lot next to her apartment to build. 

Christina is palming the table, “Have you ever tested how sturdy this is?” Frederico Fillini follows her hand to sniff it, disapproving at the loss of pats.

“Not strong enough for what you’re thinking. Come on, work’s in twenty.”

“Sorry fellas,” Christina extricates herself and wipes her hands off on her jeans, “You look divine.”

* * *

Sammy hoots at her. Hoots. Bright grin on his face.

“Somebody finally got laid,” he says, pouring a shot in celebration.

Ruby feels her ears go hot as she storms over to the other side of the bar.

“Please tell me it was Blue Eyes, I’ve been rooting for the poor girl. Lord knows she’s stuffed enough twenties in our tip jar.”

“Yeah, well, she can afford it,” Ruby says before catching that she’s just given up the game.

No matter, because in a victory lap walk of shame, Christina enters the bar holding Ruby’s phone aloft.

“Hey, you left this in my car,” she says, leaving it on the bar and lingering.

Ruby knows what she wants and doesn’t feel like playing hot and cold just yet, so she leans in for a kiss. A nice brush of the lips that she feels a smile mirrored on.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Do you want me to pick you up tonight?” Christina says in a small voice.

Ruby kisses her again, “I need to stop by my place and feed my cats, then I’ll come over.”

Christina dips her head in a nod and turns to leave. Ruby reels her in by the wrist and kisses the breath out of her before letting her go.

When she does it’s with a shaky swagger.

Sammy, who has been watching the entire exchange pours another shot.

“Mazel tov,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah,” she fights a smile. Sammy totally has her number.

“Seeing her again tonight? What’s next--”

“Don’t you dare say a U-Haul,” Ruby warns. 

Sammy shakes his head, laughing, “You’re gonna marry that white girl.”

She smacks his arm with a towel, “Oh please. Girl like that is gonna find her next distraction in a week. I’m just enjoying having a warm body to help cut down my heating bill.”

Sammy keeps shaking his head, “Miss Ruby, nobody becomes a regular just for one hook up. That girl is smitten with you.”

“People can become un-smitten.”

* * *

She checks her phone on her break and finds +1 Snapchat add, +1 Instagram follower, +1 Twitter follower, and a text from ‘Daddy’.

_ Would it be embarrassing for me to come in today? _

Ruby bites her lip. She really doesn’t like this girl.

_ Did you seriously save yourself as ‘Daddy’ in my phone? _

_ I thought it was appropriate since you were happy to call me that when I was eating your ass last night. _

Ruby has to cover her face to hide the blush. Darius, who is just in to check the schedule for the week takes a look at her and squeals, “Oh! I know that face. And wearing red lipstick too? Little slut.”

It’s a little alarming how in tune they are to her sex life. Has it really been that long? There was Tyrell and that was … four months ago. Damn.

Sammy appears even though he’s supposed to be going home, “Mmhm. Our Ruby here got that good-good, all night long from the looks of it. And,” he pauses for effect. Darius is on the edge of his seat. “She even left her phone in the girl’s car as an excuse to see her again.”

Darius looks at the phone in Ruby’s hand.

“That was an accident, Sammy,” Ruby defends.

Sammy rolls his eyes, “You are not as smooth as you think you are.”

“It was a girl?” Darius asks, then gets catty, “So, when’s the wedding?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Can’t y’all go talk about dick or something and leave me in peace?” Ruby snipes with a smile.

“Honey, we would never talk about dick without you. Just because you’re shopping at the seafood market right now doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a say.”

Ruby groans and lets her thumb hover over the contact information. She opens it, adds a heart, and presses save.

* * *

“Who the fuck is  _ Daddy  _ and why is he texting you every four seconds?” Leti asks.

Ruby turns her phone over.

The door squeaks, letting cold wind in, and with it, Christina. She sets her bass down.

“Apologies for any tardiness,” she says, before hanging up her coat and taking the seat closest to Ruby. Subtle.

Leti squints in annoyance between them, but holds back comment, sipping her beer instead.

“Why is the snare always out of tune?” Tree laments from the stage.

“It’s probably the change in humidity in the bar. The evenings get warmer from all the body heat, then after closing the temperature drops,” Christina offers.

“It’s basic thermodynamics,” Ruby adds with a little head wiggle.

“Okay, nerds,” Leti says.

Their warm up song is  _ Message in a Bottle  _ because it’s a crowd pleaser and gives them all something to do. Leti takes lead on vocals because she doesn’t have an instrument.

Ruby misses her spot to come in with the backing vocals because SOMEONE’s bass poked her in the butt. When Leti turns to glance at them, Ruby and Christina are both sucking in their cheeks with laughter.

The pattern isn’t hard, it’s A5, D5, E5, F#5 back to D5. And actually having a decent bassist to fill in the tones means she has room to riff. She can feel Christina migrating into her space, sharing the mic for the back up. Ruby feels her cheeks get hot because Christina is giving her  _ the look _ and those hands on that bass are already distracting enough.

“Okay, what is going on with you two?” Leti ambushes her in the bathroom.

Ruby avoids eye contact while washing her hands, “What do you mean?”

“The giggling. The bouncing off each other like middle schoolers. I haven’t seen you this goofy with anybody since … well, since ever.”

Ruby lies truthfully, “We’re friends, Leti. It’s nice having a bassist skilled enough to goof around with.” she shrugs, and flicks water into the half-broken sink.

Leti still has her arms folded, “Friends, huh?”

“Yes, Leti, I have friends.”

“So the bite mark on the back of blondie’s neck isn’t your handiwork?” Leti inspects her nail beds.

That gets Ruby to freeze. Suddenly her flirty little calling card feels sullied. It’s too much about her sex life for her baby sister to know about. Mortifying. Like a mother finding a dildo.

“She’s already picking things up quicker than Ji-Ah. If it keeps her around, then whatever. She looks like a total player though,” Leti checks her eyebrows and fixes the seam of her lipstick in the mirror, “I just don’t want you to get your heart broken. You remember how it was with Mama.”

“I don’t need you to tell me, Leti.”

Ruby leaves the bathroom with the resignation to cool it off with Christina. 

She stops at the stage, seeing Christina mid-laugh at something Tree’s said. Her hair is up in a sloppy bun, and smiling wide enough to make her cheeks round like apples. When she sees Ruby, her pupils expand so quickly it’s like putting catnip in front of a cat. The sight fills Ruby’s mind with one word:

Fuck.

* * *

“What do you want?” becomes a mantra of their interactions, whether it’s getting a meal.  **As Friends** . After practice. Sans Leti and Tree. Because Leti has class, and Tree doesn’t like being a third wheel.

“Is Leti serious about the band? She seems to have a lot else going on,” Christina asks, checking the menu’s wine section. She’s going to order the most expensive thing on the menu and ply Ruby with it. Ruby’s going to let her.

“Leti’s always got a million things cooking. She’s looking for a hand up too, just more loudly than I am.”

Christina hums a non-comment.

“What’s that?” Ruby sets her phone to look at her.

“Nothing. I’m ready to order,  _ what do you want _ ?”

_ To not be nagged by either you or Leti about the other _ , Ruby chews the inside of her lip. They’re not going to have a fight about this, because a couple would have a fight about this, and they’re not a couple.

She doesn’t put it down, just keeps holding onto it, like everything else. There’s a tension in the air during dinner. Which is “casual tapas” and it is so hard to consider it casual when she’s sucking passionfruit panna cotta off Christina’s spoon. It tastes like summer--too early to tease, and it has her mind drifting to blonde hair flared out like a sunburst against the grass and blue eyes hidden by sunglasses.

Warmth. It tastes like. That’s all.

Christina drives with her hand on Ruby’s thigh the whole way home, and it’s not the first time. It’s just the first time she’s actively noticed.

Christina ordered extra of the profiteroles because Ruby liked them and it pisses her off. Seeing her with her thousand dollar outfits and watches, standing in Ruby’s secondhand kitchen, putting dessert that cost more than Ruby’s daily meal budget into the fridge and then drinking soy milk from the cartoon while Frederico Fillini meows at her for attention.

She wants it to stop, so she has a go at her.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Christina gives her an irritated look from behind the carton.

“No, are you?” she fires back.

“Not for a while now,” Ruby says with confident acid.

Christina gets that angry pinched look she has when Leti speaks sometimes.

“Is this apropos of anything? Or are you just throwing the terms of our arrangement in my face for a fun way to end a nice evening?”

“I don’t believe you. Why the hell are you so invested in whether or not I come up for air? I don’t know what you are actually after, if this is just some game to you…. Play around with some poor South Side girl to feed your ego and then move onto the next.”

Her chest is heaving with a sick feeling she can’t quite identify, it’s stuck to her ribs like molasses, “I know I am not special enough to warrant,” she waves a hand around, “All this.”

Christina makes a series of motions with her hands before cracking her neck and speaking in slow, careful syllables. The cats aren’t sure which side of the kitchen to ally themselves with, so they flee to the bedroom. 

“Fine. I came in to the bar after having just defended myself academically to a bunch of dried up old fucks who only see me as a pair of tits and it was a reminder: No matter how smart, or resourceful, or fucking modest you are, that’s all you’ll ever be.

“To them, I’m lesser. Just for having a cunt. No amount of research or laughing at the right jokes will change that.”

Christina pauses, taking a deep breath, “And I know. I know it’s even worse for you because you’re black and you haven’t been handed the world to you on a silver platter. I have it easy in comparison. But, it still fucking--”

“Sucks,” Ruby finishes, opening slightly. 

Christina nods.

“So, after that, I was feeling low and I came into the bar for a drink and there you were up on stage singing,  _ It’s a Man’s Man’s World  _ and you were so--” she gets a little choked up, “I knew.  _ I knew.  _ You were just as tired and pissed as I was. Watching you up there was like,” she smiles softly at the last word, “Magic.”

Christina’s words wash over Ruby until they’re absorbed. There’s a stark, stupid clarity to realizing--oh, Christina’s in love with  _ me _ .

“And, if I can’t stop men from acting like that, then I can at least stop you from feeling helpless in that same way,” she finishes.

“That and you want to fuck me.”

Christina sucks her lip and nods.

The honesty is nice. It’s a breath of fresh air.

“And you don’t like my sister.”

“She’s an anchor around your neck,” Christina says with blunt savagery.

It’s the kind of thing that Ruby would usually lay somebody out for saying.

Christina’s waiting for her reaction. And, Ruby knows she won’t cross into Ruby’s space unless invited. A boundary. It works most of the time, but right now it just feels like a vampiric contract. Ruby stands on unsteady heels, mulling on the words.

Finally, she crosses the kitchen and pulls at Christina’s open collar, burying her face against her clavicle.

"What do you want?" Christina asks.

Ruby sighs, enjoying the way it makes Christina squirm, "I want you to play me like your bass guitar."

The exploration of that is both of them on their sides. Christina's right hand works Ruby's clit and folds, while her left rolls and tweaks Ruby's nipples. All while her hips pump the new strap on into her. It starts as an awkward coordination of their bodies, but just like with music, the right rhythm makes them sing. Ruby's moaning so loudly she's sure she's gonna get noise complaints. So, she finds Christina's mouth. The kiss isn't as much of a kiss as it is a knocking of lips and tongues, but that makes it sweeter. Hotter.

Later, after they've showered, she washes fresh snowfall while Christina snores into her side, and Ruby counts the days before all this ends.

* * *

It’s Leti’s fault again.

It should be an innocent mistake. A non-event. But, at a house party she introduces them as:

_ “My sister Ruby and her girlfriend, Christina.” _

And Ruby frowns, catching Leti’s eye on that. Leti flaps a hand, “Right, sorry. Her  _ boyfriend _ , Christina.”

Christina has her eyes locked on Ruby as she sucks her lip. The guests move on, because that’s a normal introduction these days.

Ruby adjusts her shoulders, says nothing of it, and waits, fuming, to find Leti alone. She does, in the kitchen, once enough people have vacated to smoke or watch Tree play some rhythm game on the big screen.

“The hell was that?” Ruby asks.

“What? The potato salad? I think the mayonnaise was off. Smelled fine to me, but now it’s wicked funky.”

Leti squints at Ruby as she removes her head from the fridge, “Unless you’re talking about something else.”

“Christina isn’t my girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“Really?” There’s no malice, just genuine confusion, “Sorry. I just assumed since you spend so much time at her castle in Hyde Park.”

“How the fuck do you know where Christina lives?” Ruby hisses to keep her voice even.

“Tic told me.”

That hits Ruby like a pie to the face. There has to be a follow-up explanation because if Tic was fucking her--if Tic and Christina were any kind of item, Leti would be pissed about it.

“How the fuck does Tic know where Christina lives?”

Leti laughs, grabbing a handful of chips, “They’re cousins.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“I know right? I didn’t believe it either, but that’s actually why she moved to Chicago. He’s her last living kin.”

“‘The fuck was George getting up to thirty years ago?” Ruby says.

“Not George,” Leti shakes her head, “They’re like, fifth or sixth cousins I think?”

“So, not even blood at this point?”

It’s Christina, walking in with a front of cold air, who chimes in, “Not true. Still sharing in some genetic material.”

And Tic who adds, “But we’re less related than the Queen of England and her husband.”

“Yeah, well the crown’s family tree is more like an inverted bush,” Christina grabs a beer and closes the fridge with her knee, leaving again with Tic in their coats, a joint tucked behind Tic’s ear.

“Why does my social life keep coming back to Atticus Freeman?” Ruby sighs.

* * *

Later, on the L train ride home, she says, “I never thought to ask. Are you a boy or a girl?”

Christina’s grip on her waist tightens as the train rocks, “Most days I’m both. I’m fine with either.”

“She or he, and they?”

“Not a they.”

“Okay.”

Ruby huffs a little laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, I should have listened to Sammy when he said you had a ‘masc vibe’.”

* * *

They’re not dating.

They just spend most days together.

Ruby has just been spending more time on Instagram and Snapchat because she feels like it, not because they’re sending each other stupid memes and videos back and forth every moment they’re not together.

Ruby definitely hasn’t migrated part of her wardrobe to Christina’s house and Christina definitely doesn’t have a key to her apartment with which she uses to feed her cats.

To prove this point, Ruby opens a snap with the caption, “They like me better than you now <3” of Christina posed with the cats.

She definitely doesn’t screenshot it to save forever.

Because that’s what someone who is dating would do and they are not dating.

She made it all very clear when she laid down the rules about how they’re just doing something casual. She’s got to focus on herself right now.

Yes, she wants Thai Food for dinner, thank you, Baby. Yes, number 26, spicy.

She doesn’t like the way Christina’s scent lingers on her pillow, or the way she bumps her nose against Ruby’s when they wake up face to face every morning. She doesn’t like singing along to whatever’s on the radio with her, and she doesn’t like it when Christina rocks into her from behind after a long day. Most of all, Ruby really doesn’t like it when jam sessions turn into sex, and then sex turns into talking all night. 

Because liking it would mean all this is real, and if it’s real then it’s something that can be taken away. Like all happiness in Ruby’s life. It’s fleeting. And, it’s sweet. And, sweet things should be enjoyed, but not expected.

Christina will be a fond memory some day. Soon. Probably. Until now, she’s a nice treat for Ruby. Warmth to hold out for the rest of the winter.

And, the thaw’s already starting. She watches as the first spring rains come in cold, like needles, to turn the snow into flooded fields and sidewalks. She follows the path of the rain, in shadow as the pale daylight bleeds in through Christina’s window, speckling her skin. Christina’s reading a medical journal on skin grafting on her phone, because she’s a crazy person, and Ruby’s scrolling through Instagram, and they’re in bed together, because what else is there to do on a grey Monday afternoon. 

“You know,” Christina begins. Ruby can tell by the tone that she’s treading carefully and cocks an expectant brow.

Christina exhales the next part of the sentence, “This is a big house. Largely empty house.”

“Mmhm?” Ruby sets her phone down and rolls onto an elbow to regard Christina, who mirrors this action.

She knows what she’s about to be asked and readies herself for the incoming fight.

“The boys get so lonely during the day, it’d be nice to have them around while I’m writing papers.”

“You can visit with them and write papers at my house.”

“Or they could live here.”

“So you want to adopt my cats?”

Christina sighs in exasperation, “I want this house to be your home too.”

“And I distinctly remember you telling me you didn’t want to make me a kept woman.”

“I’m not asking you to be a kept woman. I’m asking you to live with me, and if you can’t tell the difference at this point then you can--”

“I can leave? Don’t worry. I was already going.”

Ruby flips the covers up and finds her jeans on the floor. She dresses without looking at Christina. She bites down on her own tongue, because she sees a pale, teary face out of the corner of her eye and doesn’t turn back.

* * *

“You know, if your mama were still alive, and if I were a violent man, I’d slap her across the face,” Sammy says.

“What?” Ruby sniffs.

“For what she did to you. And how she taught your sister to the same thing.”

Ruby stares at him balefully. She’s miserable. Been sleeping like shit for the past three nights. Both checking and not-checking her phone. Seeing the three little dots in her conversation with Christina appear then disappear.

“Which part?” Ruby puffs her lips against her glass.

“Making you believe that you were so unworthy of love that you couldn’t see it staring you in the face.”

“I don’t think I’m unworthy of love. I deserve love. I don’t deserve to be played.”

“So what has blue eyes done to make you think she’s playing you?”

Ruby scowls and swipes the glass up to chug the contents, “You’ve seen her. She’s a natural flirt, and looking like that? I’m sure she’s got a stable full of girls she’s not telling me about.”

He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head, “This is ridiculous. Dar, you’ve got a revolving door of dicks right?”

Darius appears at the bar, “Sure do, why?”

“You bring any of them lunch?”

“Hell no. We’ve got no time for eating after we’re done.”

“Ask any of them to move in?”

Darius gasps and turns his gaze to Ruby, “Honey, did Chris ask you to move in?”

Ruby leans deeper into her folded arms.

“She practically lives there already, but the moment a girl asks to make it official she bolts.”

“Now, I know you’re not talking about me like I’m not sitting right here,” Ruby says.

“Now, I know you’re gonna stop acting like a fool and call that girl and tell her you’re sorry,” Sammy parrots, “Or I’m cutting you off.”

Ruby gets up with a stretch, “I was gonna head home anyway.”

There’s no silver Sedan waiting in the almost-warm air when she exits the bar and it feels like a punch to the gut.

She’s going to meditate on Sammy’s words. He’s not a mean man. He wouldn’t lean her astray on purpose. He is, however, a romantic with a thing for hopeless causes. Like Montrose Freeman.

Ruby’s gonna go home, sober up, maybe make a decision on what to do about the whole ‘Christina Thing’ in the next few days.

She glances at her phone, thumb hovering over Instagram. She wants to check their meme chat, or scroll endlessly on the Uber ride she’s about to cave and order.

What if the first thing she sees is Christina with some new girl on her arm?

She doesn’t check the address before she orders the Uber, so when he shows up and says, “Hyde Park?” she hesitates to correct him.

Right, the last time she hailed an Uber was after a show and Christina’s arms were all shaky from playing so long. And they were both sloppy drunk and horny. They barely looked at the Uber driver for the whole ride.

“Yeah,” Ruby says.

Christina answers the door with a glass of wine in hand and Migos blaring from her headphones. 

“Hi,” Ruby says.

“Hi,” Christina says.

Ruby rolls her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

“I thought you might be entertaining….”

Christina snorts, “You greatly overestimate my social life.” She unconsciously moves to let Ruby in, despite the standoffish cross of her arms.

“Is there something you wanted?” she asks.

Ruby asserts herself into Christina’s space with a step. In her half-cocked drunken impulses she hadn’t got this far. Off the cuff it is then.

“You,” works.

Christina’s eyes go big, then soft. God, is she blinking back tears? Such a corny… Ruby has to kiss her. She can’t not. Her aim is off and she ends up getting Christina’s upper lip. Christina laughs and cups her cheeks, holding her in place for a second, slower kiss.

They rest their foreheads together when they separate.

“I think I’ve been … unkind. I have been unkind. To you.”

“Yes.”

“And for that I’m sorry. I get, weird, and competitive when it comes to Leti. And I have issues with,” she takes a deep breath, “I’ve fallen for a lot of people who didn’t give a shit about me. So, I’m gun shy.”

Christina nods again.

“It’s hard to believe this is real. That you’re this into me and not like, a scam artist or a serial killer or something.”

“I never said I  _ wasn’t  _ a serial killer.”

Ruby pinches her waist, “I’m trying to be serious.”

“I am too. I’m offended that you think just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m incapable of being perfectly monstrous.”

_ Love you _ .

It soaks into Ruby’s ears and skin. She’s batting her lashes and leaning into Christina, “Well, maybe you can take me upstairs and show me what ‘perfectly monstrous’ looks like, Lover.”

Christina closes the door and promptly scoops Ruby up. Ruby squawks in alarm, clinging to Christina’s neck as she’s brought up the stairs with ease and dropped onto the bed. 

Undressing feels different. It shouldn’t. All that’s changed are a few words, but Ruby feels uninhibited. Wild. Her iron grip on Christina’s hips leaves bruises as she holds her in place to suck on her clit and tongue her labia.

“Be my boyfriend?” Ruby asks her when they’re sweaty and tangled up in the sheets.

“Does that mean you’re changing my name in your phone?” Christina asks, playing with the hairs on the back of Ruby’s neck.

“No, I’ve lost all dignity with that, so you are ‘Daddy Heart Emoji’ for the rest of our lives.”

* * *

The band, in its current iteration, dissolves when Tree gets a job in Cincinnati and moves. And, there’s plans to replace him, but the top choice--a carpenter friend of Sammy’s named August--ends up replacing Tic instead of Tree.

“You did that on purpose,” Ruby accuses later.

Sammy smiles sweet as the devil as he wipes down a glass, “Tic will recover. And, besides, it was more cost effective than getting Auggie to fix everything in this damn place on the off-chance he’d get to talk to Miss Leti.”

It’s kind of hilarious, but the only part of the band that doesn’t break up is her and Christina. She emcees the drag night and Christina shows up, dressed to the nines as her alter-ego, “Will”. 

And, she does move in to that castle in Hyde Park with no regrets. The cats attack the vintage furniture. They turn Christina’s creepy murder basement into a jamming studio. Ruby manifests destiny into the abandoned greenhouse and grows more flowers than she knows what to do with.

Christina drifts out to join her on a rainy day and they drink fresh mint tea and watch the water droplets race past vines on the glass. Ruby pokes Christina on the nose with the head of a rose.

“It’s a hybrid I’m working on. Trying to reverse engineer a ‘Dark Night’ tea rose,” she explains.

She keeps bopping Christina with it instead of letting her pause to sniff. It gets the desired effect: Christina wrinkling her nose and smacking it away to kiss Ruby.

“Brat,” Christina says against her mouth, then adds, "You're good with flowers."  
  
She's speaking in that loaded way she does when she wants to offer Ruby up the world, "Have you considered becoming a florist."

Ruby sniffs the flower, which just smells like chlorophyll at this point, because it's bred for colour not scent, while she contemplates. "Maybe, maybe I wanna try a little bit of everything. Does that work for you?"

"Whatever you want."

**Author's Note:**

> Ruby must always be uninterrupted.
> 
> I hope Sammy didn't come off just as a gay best friend, but more of a meddling father figure.
> 
> As always, comments are lovely and keep me writing.


End file.
